


4:48 a.m.

by PrismPrince



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Hanging mention, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Ooooo boy this ones a doozy my friends, Please Be careful, Suicide, attempted suicide attempt, but its like, descriptions of past suicide attempts, i guess?, its not quite a suicide attempt, overdosing mention, please be careful reading this!!!, suicide aftermath, suicide ideation, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 07:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrismPrince/pseuds/PrismPrince
Summary: Connor Murphy locked the bathroom door.He was ready.So ready.But he actually thought before he did anything.





	4:48 a.m.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a kleinsen oneshot that i need to edit. what did i do instead? write this. i'm sorry for all the pain i put this poor boy though!!

Connor fucking hated having the bedroom across from the bathroom. Every time he heard footsteps approaching, he never thought ‘bathroom’. His mind always went to something much more sinister. Maybe they finally decided to get rid of him. They're going to yell at him more. They found a new remedy to a new problem they found. They were finally going to kill him. 

On a night like tonight, though, he loved the room placement. He didn't have to drag his soon-to-be lifeless form across the house just to lock himself in his new crypt. 

Instead of immediately acting on his plan, writing a note, or reflecting on what broke him this badly, though, Connor Murphy locked the bathroom door behind him and sat on the hardwood flooring. 

He memorized his dad's summer schedule. The only thing that made summer more bearable was how early Larry Murphy had to go into work. There was less fighting at breakfast on the days Connor joined the two girls. Although he couldn't hear it, he knew Larry's alarm went off at 4:30. He would make his coffee and then come to the bathroom around 4:45. It usually ended up being closer to 4:48. Connor looked at the cheesy and expensive french-import clock they had in there. 1:27 a.m. He had about 3 hours and 11 minutes to die. 191 minutes. 

“You're stalling, Connor.” His voice came out shaky, soft, and broken. Very fucking broken. When had he started crying? What had even prompted this? “190. You just wasted another fucking minute. Do it.”

He didn't. 

Connor moved from sitting on the floor to laying on the floor. 189. As the minutes slowly ticked down, he wondered what would happen if he actually did it. He’d never attempted to the point of passing out, so he had no idea what would happen if he actually died. 

The first time, he downed pills. Not enough. He ended up stumbling back to bed, high off his ass. He lost a lot of fluid that night, waking up to the most gut-wrenching smell of stomach acid; he hadn't eaten much in the past week.

Second time, he tried hanging himself. He tied the rope, strung it up onto the fan, and let himself try it. Instead of hanging, though, he ended up falling. His parents came in and he held up the noose and a broken-off fan blade as an explanation. Cynthia nearly fainted.

Now, he was planning on a different approach. His mind wandered before he could figure out the math of how long it would be until 4:48. 

Larry would knock. And knock. For maybe a minute. Then try and open the door. Then he'd peer into Connor’s room (light still on, bed still empty and unmade) and know what was happening. He'd start pounding on the door and screaming. He'd wake Cynthia and Zoe up. Only the former would come and investigate. The latter would open the window and sit on the roof for a while until she couldn't hear it anymore. 

Larry would have to end up unlocking the door. Cynthia would be shaking too much. Connor was pretty close to the door. They'd probably hit his leg with the door. Oh well. Not his fault.

What would their reactions be?

The thought rung out in his head like how the dumbass grandfather clock in the other room suddenly felt the need to alert the (mostly) asleep house that it was now 1:45. Ironically, the clock was 12 minutes fast. 1:32. That's only--

His parents wouldn't be relieved. 

He thought that sentence, and then his brain went to radio static for a few seconds.

His mom would sob.

His dad would break down and have to pry her from Connor.

It would take Zoe a while to register what happened, but she'd be a mess.

Back to radio static.

Although Connor Murphy wasn't magically cured by this realization, he pried himself off of the bathroom floor and flopped back into bed. He fell asleep immediately.

At least something was keeping him alive.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblrs are  
> @aspentreesandpreciousbees   
> @asmalltowntrans  
> @semicolonsandperiods  
> if you need to talk!!   
> i love you all ♡   
> please consider leaving kudos or a comment? it means a lot!!!


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